The Weakness Within, Who We Could Have Been
by Jag-Fel
Summary: Lee Adama considers the women in his life and his own selfloathing after getting shot in Sacrifice but before The Captain’s Hand. Story roughly follows the canon arc from there, but several differences appear as far as relationships of the characters go.
1. Recovery

Weakness Within (Who We Could Have Been)

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_Lee Adama considers the women in his life and his own self-loathing after getting shot in __Sacrifice__ but before __The Captain's Hand__. Story roughly follows the canon arc from there, but several differences appear as far as relationships of the characters go. Contains LeeDee, implied LeeKara, and mentions of DeeBilly._

_Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica and its characters do not belong to me, of course. I'm just dabbling in the fandom._

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Part I: Recovery

Lee Adama felt like a dwarf star, and caught in his innermost orbit were two women. On the one hand there was the destructive Kara Thrace; insubordinate, wild, rebellious Starbuck. Their history spanned the length of their commissions in the Colonial Fleet back to when Kara and Lee's brother Zak had their relationship... before Zak died, at least. It felt like a lifetime ago. One the other hand, however, there was the sweet, earnest Anastasia 'Dee' Dualla. The two women couldn't be more different, Lee considered, and therein lied his problem. Between the two he had the perfect woman, but his heart – or loins, if he were to be perfectly honest – was torn between the conflicting gravity wells of their orbits around him, the bright shining Apollo.

When Lee had first arrived on the Galactica, he'd been arrogant and full of rage. After time, that bristling demeanor had worn away; giving way to deeper, darker emotions that seemed to be present in the eyes of every crewmember on _Galactica._ Some of his self-confidence eroded. Lee began to doubt himself, to question his own judgment and second-guess every decision and order. The fleet, no thanks to President Roslin, held him aloft as some shining beacon of hope. The god Apollo come to life, she'd claimed more than once, trying to turn him into some kind of icon for hope and faith. Unfortunately the added attention and responsibility weighed heavily on Lee's shoulders and conscience. He smiled less now, Dee had told him once, and he spent more time burning off frustration and stress in the _Galactica_'s gym.

But through it all, all the doubt and depression, one constant remained true. No matter what level of despair or self-loathing Lee could reach, Dee was always there for him, his bright star in the sky. She never demanded anything from him except for his affection and she gave him everything she had in her. Her off duty hours were his, if he wished it, she'd be there whenever he wanted or needed her presence. Her face was the only image that stayed with him after being shot on _Cloud 9,_ another of many close brushes with death. And sure enough, she'd been there when he woke up, sitting beside his hospital gurney. The first sensation he remembered after waking was the feel of her soft, delicate hand in his.

Dee was unlike Kara in so many ways. Kara was wild and untamed, she did what she wanted – or who, for that matter – when she wanted, everyone else be damned. Kara only cared about number one, and even though the woman often haunted Lee's dreams, he knew the truth deep down. She was a destructive force, a hurricane, consuming everyone and everything in her path and sewing a path of devastation wherever she went. But worst of all, she was so mind-numbingly _there_ that he couldn't shake her from his scopes. She stuck to him like a Cylon Raider, whether he wanted her there or not.

"Hey you," a soft voice interrupted Lee's thoughts; he blinked his eyes open against the overhead lights overhead. The very Dee from his thoughts was leaning casually against the bulkhead beside the hatch.

"Dee," he murmured, watching her enter the room and take a position sitting on the edge of his bunk. Her delicate hands found his wired shoulders, kneading and working the tension from his body as she leaned over him. Lee's eyes fluttered as her lips found his neck, brushing a trail of light kisses along his neckline. It was little gestures like this that made Lee fall in love with Dee all over again on a daily basis, something Kara could never do. Her kisses were soft, caring, desperate at times, but it was always more than raw animal passion or a release from the harsh realities around them.

Lee strained his neck and pressed his lips against Dee's and returned the favor. She'd recently developed a troublesome habit of interrupting his 'rest and recuperation' time when she got off her shift, but he never complained. Doc Cottle had once or twice, but never Lee.

"I missed you," Dee breathed against his neck, leaning into him like a pillow, but mindful of his gunshot wound on the right pectoral. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders protectively, lending her strength to him.

There was a time in Lee's life when he thought he deserved someone like Dee in his life, like the universe owed him something, but not anymore. He struggled on a day-to-day basis to understand what she saw in him. "Missed you too, Dee. How was your shift?"

She shrugged, resting on her elbows. "Not so bad, fairly quiet. Feeling any better?"

Lee groaned slightly as she shifted, forcing him to flex the muscle that was still healing. "I think I'd feel better if I hadn't recovered," he replied with a wry grin and light chuckle.

A slight grin found its way to her lips as she gently punched him on the other shoulder. "Don't talk like that. Some of us would miss you," she added poignantly, poking his shoulder in the same spot she'd punched him just moments before.

"Like who?"

"Your father, for one."

"Mmm. And?"

"The pilots."

"They've got Starbuck."

"And Starbuck."

Lee blinked a few times and met Dee's eyes carefully. His relationship with Kara had always been a significant issue between them, Lee knew, but he also knew that Kara was dangerous. Lee brushed his knuckles against her cheek with a loving caress. "Forget about her, Dee. It's just you and me."

She smiled into his touch. Her lips found his again and soon the rest of the world was a blur to them, so lost in the ministrations of the other. For once they forgot about all of the other concerns in the universe. They were just content to be together and to be loved. Lee had been lonely for so long, he couldn't remember ever feeling as fulfilled as he did with Dee, and since she kept returning to him he assumed she felt the same way. They were still blissfully unaware of the world around them despite the incessant knocking at the door. Dee's hands were navigating the sleek contours of his chest and stomach; his hands playing with the belt on her duty trousers.

"As much as I," she whispered against his lips, between fierce kisses, "like where this is going," another kiss, "we should really head down to the gym," kiss, "and get you some physio." Dee melted into his embrace and touch, letting him slide her duty jacket off and allowed him to keep working on her trousers. Her determination to help him recover disappeared into thin air as his rough hands found the bare skin of her stomach. The warmth of his hands caressing her entire body was almost too much. She gasped aloud.

Lee's lips found their way to her neck, evoking a soft moan that she scarcely realized even came from her. "You are my physiotherapy," he murmured, helping her out of her tank tops. Dee reached back to release the clip that held her hair up, allowing dark strands of her hair to curtain their faces in intimate privacy. He pecked her lips with the umpteenth kiss of the evening. With marked effort, Lee grunted as he rolled them over so he was on top of Dee. A grimace briefly marred his chiseled expression. Her eyes betrayed her worry and concern. Her hands gently found their way to the very obvious wound on his chest. They pressed against the muscle, two fingers brushing the scar tissue lightly. Lee might have considered the act erotic, had he not been so lost in the compassion that had replaced worry in her eyes. After another couple heartbeats her eyes locked on his again.

"I almost lost you there," she remarked so quietly that Lee almost did not hear her, but he had, and an understanding smile returned to his expression.

"But you didn't," he replied, tracing the outline of her lips with his thumb and forefinger. "You're here, I'm here, what else could we ask for?"

A commotion at the door interrupted their private moment. The voices of several pilots were protesting being locked out of their shared quarters. "Privacy," Dee replied with a giggle, answering his question.

Lee laughed. "Alright, let's head to the gym. We can continue this later."

"Promise?"

His only reply was his lips on hers.

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I was sitting around, taking a break from the final draft of my latest SG-1 fic, and decided to try something new. This was the lovechild of too much painkillers, not enough sleep, and watching way too much BSG on DVD. Please review. I'm not sure how far I'm going to go with this, but I imagine another few parts are in order. Thank you for reading. 


	2. Returning

Weakness Within (Who We Could Have Been)

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_Lee Adama is on the road to recovery after being shot. With the support of Anastasia Dualla and Karl Agathon, among others, Lee fights to get himself back into shape and to fight off his own demons._

_Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica and its characters do not belong to me, of course. I'm just dabbling in the fandom._

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Part II: Returning

Lee Adama felt like his chest was going to explode. Helo was spotting him on the weight bench. Apollo was struggling to rack weights that were as much as fifty pounds lighter than he'd been lifting before being shot. The pain was quite intense in his right pectoral. Despite having Helo and Dee as his private cheering section, the frustration, more than his injury, was the element truly holding him back from making a full recovery. He couldn't help but remember a time not so long ago when he'd been left out in space to die, his oxygen running out, and only being able think about mountain springs...

Abruptly Lee sat up from the bench and exhaled sharply. He was visibly frustrated from what he considered a lack of progress, though everyone who knew him thought he was recovering well. He absent touched the scar tissue of his bullet wound while sitting, taking deep breaths. It took just a moment for Lee to wrap his hands and lay into the heavy bag hanging in the room. Boxing was one thing that always helped him center his mind, even though every punch from his right brought an irritating burning sensation from his wounded pectoral. Every strike brought a sharp grunt or growl. Helo and Dee could only watch on awkwardly as their friend set to destroying the leather bag.

Helo popped a cherry sucker into his mouth, taking position to help stabilize the bag from Lee's strikes. Lee glanced at the other, taller man significantly, but Helo just grinned whimsically and held on. Still across the room, Dee sat down on the bench and crossed her arms, watching on as Lee squared his feet against his inanimate opponent and set out to prove why he'd earned the moniker 'Apollo'.

With single-minded purpose, Lee tore into the leather surface. His fists created a crescendo of intensity and focus and frustration, but he would not stop. Even after Helo had to square himself against the bag to avoid being knocked off his feet, Lee continued his furious barrage against the bag. He went on for over thirty minutes, by which time he was drained, thirsty, and sore as hell, but no less angry with himself. Helo made himself scarce, leaving Dee and Lee alone in the weight room. Lee leaned against the wall, using one arm to hold himself up. Dee approached him from behind and wrapped her arms firmly around his waist and leaned into his shoulder.

"You're all sweaty," she said, hiding behind a smile. When Lee didn't reply, she embraced him tighter. "You're recovering well. I can see the improvement."

"It's not enough," Lee grunted, still refusing to face her.

Dee released him and took a step back, crossing her arms for the second time. She tapped her foot impatiently waiting for Lee to turn and look at her. "You can't expect to make a full recovery over-night, Apollo."

He leveled a haymaker punch right at the bag again, letting the momentum carry it away and ignoring it as it came back. The heavy bag's force thumped Lee in the back, shaking his balance and dropping him to the floor. Dee had to stifle a giggle. Lee went in and out of darker moods and mindsets, so she treasured every lighter moment they found. Moments like this reminded her of why she spent so much time around the man. She watched Lee roll over onto his back, loosening the wraps on his fists. Lee glanced at Dee, a grin tugging at his own face when he saw her trying to stave off the onslaught of laughter.

"What's so funny?" he asked, climbing to his feet again.

"You," she giggled, finally letting her good-natured laughter out. "Falling on your ass."

Her Lee was back. Her smile was infectious, he'd always told her, and now he was grinning like an idiot. "C'mere," Lee growled, squaring himself off against her as if preparing for a round of sparring.

With mock-seriousness, Dee put on her best Triad face and brought her hands up in an exaggerated fighter's pose, dancing around Lee. He shot a slow punch out, obviously aiming to miss. Dee was very familiar with their little game here, and captured his arm. She reached around and locked him in a headlock, still holding the rest, and carefully tossed him onto the ground. The whole time she was vividly aware of his injury and had no intention of injuring him further, but Lee grabbed her on his way down and brought her with him. She landed on top of him with a huff, the impact forcing their breath out.

Now their noses were just a handbreadth apart, staring into each other's eyes. They'd been in a similar position a couple months previous, before they'd started seeing each other regularly, and while Billy was still around. He'd interrupted the earlier encounter. But now there was no Billy, just Lee and Dee, so she took advantage of Lee's submissive position and pressed her lips to his. His hands, released from her martial grip, found their way to her face, her sides, her back, and eventually her bum. Dee squirmed in Lee's arms, but he found he had no desire to let go.

"Thanks," Lee murmured against her cheek. His lips pecked a line of kisses along her jawbone.

"For?" she whispered, shivering from the intensity of his affections.

Lee's arms returned to her back, hugging her against him tightly. They still hadn't moved from the floor of the fitness room, only sparring mats between Lee's back and the cold metal bulkheads of the _Galactica_'s floor. "Just being here. Not giving up on me."

She propped herself up, elbows on both side of his face, and gazed down at him. "You're worth the effort."

"I'm not so sure..."

"Tut tut tut," she chastised. "We'll have none of that defeatist attitude on _my_ watch, Captain Adama."

He laughed again, giving in to Dee's indefatigable positive mindset and infectious, cheery demeanor. She really was the best to him, and a smile was never far from her soft, beautiful lips... Lee felt a rush of warmth sweet his body, and he suddenly realized how compromising their position was. Dee seemed to mirror his thoughts and grudgingly crawled off Lee, first climbing to her knees, and then standing. She leaned and offered him her hand, which he accepted, joining her in the Land of the Bipedally Mobile.

"And now?" he asked, putting his dry tank top back on, and grimacing as it stuck to his drenched torso.

"We get you into the shower and into some clean clothes," Dee announced, placing a hand squarely in the middle of his chest and he advanced on her with a devilish grin. "No one who smells like you is allowed in _my_ bunk."

Lee grinned at her. "Who needs any more motivation than that?"

As he turned away to walk off for the showers, Dee placed her hands on his shoulder blades and pushed him forward, advancing him into the hallway and propelling him toward the showers. "Go!"

----

Lee stepped out of the shower feeling like a new man. His demeanor was noticeably brighter. He felt better all around, although washing his hair had been somewhat painful having to reach over his head and really stretch out the damaged, tired flesh around his wound. He grudgingly admitted, though only to himself, that maybe he'd overdone it on the physio earlier. It had nothing to do with Helo and Dee watching on; he knew they supported and believed in him one hundred percent. The problem was entirely Lee Adama and how hard he was on himself. His harshest and most inscrutable critic was himself.

Lee dressed in green fatigue trousers and his tank tops, toweling his hair off as he watched through the_Galactica_'s corridors. A few friends met him on the way, saying he 'looked good for a dead man' and making comments on the speed of his recovery. For the most part, Lee ignored them; though he counted the blessings of knowing so many people were rooting for his recovery. Lee eventually found his way to the Commanding Officer's quarters. He knocked on the hatch and was soon greeted by his father, Admiral William Adama, who welcomed his son into his rooms.

"Lee," William said sweepingly, offering his son a seat near his desk. "Good to see you up and about."

"Thanks," Lee returned, taking the proffered seat and wincing as he flopped down.

William watched him appraisingly, the father's ever-critical eye overriding the officer's. "How's the healing?"

Lee frowned a bit, flexing the shoulder to loosen the muscle a bit. It often grew stiff if he didn't keep himself mobile and forcing the muscle to adapt. "Slow. Way too slow. But Dee and Helo are determined to keep me active and recovering."

"You're sticking to Cottle's physiotherapy regimen?"

"Loosely."

The admiral laughed aloud, leaning back into his chair. "That I understand. I remember a pilot about the same age as you, some many years ago, being in a similar situation."

Lee raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

William gestured toward himself. "You don't think recklessness is a learned attribute?"

"Nature over nurture," Lee remarked with a small smile, happy to enjoy an amicable moment with his father without the concerns of the military or the fleet overriding their everyday lives.

"Unfortunately that's another trait you took from me rather than your mother," William muttered more than spoke, and with that, the moment was gone. "You'll have to stop by sometime this week for dinner. Bring Dee. We'll make an evening out of it."

Lee was rising from his chair, feeling the father-son awkwardness sneaking in. "I'll mention it to Dee when she gets off CIC duty."

William watched Lee leave, just glad to have had a few moments of time with his son as actually _family_, as opposed to the otherwise military rigidity that dominated most of their conversations. He sighed, steepling his fingers over the paperwork on his desk. If Dee's smile was infectious, so were Lee's dark mood swings. William knew himself and his son well enough to realize that Lee's moodiness would pass as his injury healed. He had a great support team in form of Helo and Dee, and William Adama knew exactly how much time Lee and Dee spent together. After all, what kind of commander would he be if he didn't know what was going on with two of his star officers, let alone his own son?

Admiral William Adama smiled to himself, enjoying the quiet and imagining the night to come. Perhaps he'd invite President Roslin over for the meal... she always brought some of that very enjoyable Ambrosia.

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Sorry for the wait. Here's chapter two, I hope you all enjoyed it. More to come in the interim. 


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